


Silver Fox, Blue Eyes - Feverdream

by Sylla_Headhunter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keitor Month 2020, Lotor is fae, M/M, nsfw version of prompt four for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22116418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylla_Headhunter/pseuds/Sylla_Headhunter
Summary: Lotor, Prince of the Fae, is currently trapped inside an iron cage in his second hide of a silver fox. Just as his body is about to succumb to the deadly poison, he is rescued by one of the humans responsible for his capture - who, unknowingly, swears his loyalty to the Prince and offers him his body and soul. Who is Lotor to refuse him?
Relationships: Keith/Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 104





	Silver Fox, Blue Eyes - Feverdream

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah well, everyone's gotta start somewhere and y'all get to suffer bc I have no idea how to write smut! Enjoy lmfao
> 
> This is more than double the length of the One Shot I did for prompt four in our ORIGINAL collection (well, oops), and if you already read that one, you can skip until you reach THIS:
> 
> “You said you wanted to make it up to me.” And he smiles, wickedly soft, one of his long fingers curling around a dark lock of hair. “Well? Are you still up for it?"
> 
> Basically, Lotor is a very sensual individual and I couldn't resist neither him nor Keith. Blame those two. Please do not blame me. I don't know anything lmfao
> 
> Shout-out to Dani, my Smoulmate. Without me screaming at you, this would not have been possible. Ily <3

There is iron around his body and he hates it.

Lotor snarls, fur bristling with unbridled fury and something he refuses to name fear, his paws pacing the small place that is left for him – the small part of his prison that doesn't burn him like it were to shove burning coals down his throat. The iron smell, so like human blood, makes him gag from time to time without being able to do much against it. He had been wantonly negligent, walking right into a trap as his mind succumbed to the exhaustion and hunger his body had been plagued with for days now.

Now he is trapped with no way out and it infuriates him to no end.

The entrance to the strange tent he has been brought in to moves, stirring in the wind, and Lotor feels his sinewy body tense, a defensive growl ripping from his throat. He tries to scent the air, tries to ascertain the other one’s intentions but the scent of iron claws at his senses and he gives up with a choked up whine. He can’t even _see_ properly, his very being quaking at the iron tickling at his feet.

“It’s alright.”  
The rough voice almost makes him jump, only his hardened will calming the instincts that tell him to flee from this place – the instincts that would have thrown himself at the iron bars around him, probably. The voice’s owner makes their way over to his cage and he can finally see enough of them to mark them as male. Dark hair, short by his own standards but rather long for human one’s, hangs into his eyes and he is wearing a poorly fitting uniform. His eyes are narrowed but Lotor cannot read his expression. There seems to be no malice present but he will not bargain on his own judgment of a foreign species.

“Are you hungry?”  
Lotor’s ears perk up as he tries to read the male’s voice, tries to filter his emotions from the words spoken to him. The meaning escapes him until the male rattles a small box with one hand. It contains some sort of dry biscuit, Lotor’s eyes observe, and he sniffs in disgust before he can help himself, his hackles rising again. The male barks a sound that makes him snarl back in response.

“Okay, fine, fine. I get it. No dog food for you.”  
 _Dog food? Insolent fool!_

“I’ll come back with something else, alright?”  
The male looks at him once, his eyes various shades of grey.

“Wait here.”  
And then he vanishes again, leaving Lotor alone in the cage that’s slowly closing in around him.

The next day, Lotor wakes to the enticing scent of fresh meat, left just in front of his muzzle. He scarves it down after sniffing it a few times, making sure that it is not poisoned, although it might not even make a difference. He has just prolonged his suffering for another day, the iron eating at his conscience ever so slowly. It hurts to think about it, so he just closes his eyes again and contemplates the idea of throwing himself at the iron bars to end his misery earlier.

No one visits him while he is conscious enough to see or hear them. He is glad about that.

“What’s wrong with him?”  
The voice seems vaguely familiar, floating in and out of his consciousness like languid waves lapping at his thoughts. He can’t seem to open his eyes, can’t lift his head. He is powerless, his thought process shattered as hands cup his head and draw him away from the iron bleeding into his body. He whines roughly, voice almost gone, and feels arms drawing his body ever closer, warmth seeping into his brittle bones. Soothing words are being murmured into his soft ears, fingers carding through his matted fur and he drifts away again, nose filled with the scent of smoking wood and copper.

There is singing when he wakes up. Soft, quiet hitching of a voice unaccustomed to such a task, rough tongue stumbling along words it isn’t familiar with and Lotor blinks, eyes yanking themselves open to reveal a view he has never seen in his entire life.

His body is draped across two legs stuck in a dark kind of armor made out of leather, following lean muscles as it does whenever worked well with. A hand scratches behind his ears languidly and he almost leans into it, forgetting himself for a moment, until the fog is lifted and he can think clearer and scramble to safety, to freedom. The overpowering scent of iron is gone – finally! He is free!  
That is until he falls over and almost tumbles to the ground, his legs far too weak to carry him. A soft chuckle cuts the singing short.

“Hey, don’t do that. It’s dangerous – the old woman told me you’d have to recover for a while, you know?”  
Lotor feels his nose twitch before turning around, blue eyes meeting gray and squinting suspiciously.

The other man laughs again, a sound that seems to try and calm his frazzled nerves. It is all the more suspicious then, Lotor decides.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I’m uh… I’m sorry about the iron. I didn’t know.” A dark cloud seems to pass over the face in front of him. “They did.”  
Quite obviously, since they had probably wanted to keep him and sell him to the highest bidder. Is that not what this man intends as well? Why else would he keep him company?  
“I’m sorry about that.”  
The words startle him almost worse than anything else did. Why is this man prostrating himself in front of him, laying his life down for Lotor to take it? Does he not know the gravity of such words?!  
“I would like to make it up to you however I can.”  
A yelp leaves Lotor’s mouth without him wanting to release it and he jumps at the man, snarling viciously. He is in no need for a bond forged between him and a human! He needs no debt weighed upon his shoulders apart from a life debt he already owns!  
The human, however, just stares back at him, gray eyes judging him silently – almost like an animal himself. He lifts one hand and places it on Lotor’s head, warmth flooding the space between them like a silent promise.

“I want to make it up to you”, he repeats, softly. And Lotor, curse him, lets his snarl fade away into nothingness.

Keith wakes up to a soft snout nuzzling his chin and he breaks into a smile, his fingers pushing the silver fox away from his face.

“Stop that”, he demands sleepily. The fox yaps at him and it makes him laugh.

“I’m serious. Let me sleep some more….”  
There is rustling next to him, soft fur disappearing from between his fingers until a slender digit begins to draw idly on his cheekbone. Keith arches into the touch until his stomach drops and he looks up (and up and up) towards the fox that has been sitting next to him.

He is gone.

There is, however, someone else now, someone with pale blue eyes and a silvery mane flowing down his face to cover part of his blessedly naked body, an amused smile adorning his lips, mirrored by the way his eyes glint in the small amount of daylight illuminating his entire body.

“Hello”, he purrs softly enough to make Keith’s soul leave his body through breathless lips. “I believe I was promised something.”  
The man bends until his mouth is next to Keith’s ear, a soft puff of air escaping it.

“You said you wanted to make it up to me.” And he smiles, wickedly soft, one of his long fingers curling around a dark lock of hair. “Well? Are you still up for it?”

Keith swallows audibly, his eyes flicking towards the stranger sitting there, his smile curled around his lips. He is lithe but not thin, muscles coming alive underneath his sun-kissed skin. Keith wants to know what he tastes like and it makes his cheeks burn with heat. The man laughs, so so unbearably soft and teasing and Keith can’t help himself but grasp for his hand in a desperate attempt to get near him, to get everything under control.

“Is that a yes?”  
The words ghost against the skin of his bare neck, drawing a tantalizing line towards his collarbones, as the man escapes his grasp easily, like silver smoke over a burnt down fire. Keith gasps softly and tries to nod, his body quivering with the simmering magic he can feel from the other man – from the fox turned something entirely else. He has held him on his lap! And never once thought …!  
His brain screeches to a halt as pale lips touch his neck for the barest of moments, his breath hitching in his throat. The man laughs again, moving up to cup his face between his cool hands, until his pale blue eyes meet Keith’s lavender grey’s.

“Little mortal, what is your name, pray tell?”  
And Keith, like the fool he is, stammers his name, his body almost vibrating with want. With _need._

The man smiles, lips parting to show the barest hint of his teeth and his fangs, making him look every bit as feral as he is sensual.

“Keith”, he repeats and Keith almost melts at the way his name sounds from a stranger’s lips.

The man gets closer again, somehow, his lips daring to touch Keith’s ear for just one breathtaking second, before whispering, “Mine is Lotor. Do remember it, Keith. I intend to make you scream it today.”  
 _Fuck._

Keith gasps for air as Lotor’s teeth graze his earlobe, leaving a searing path of nothing but pleasure. Cool fingers stroke his face again and then the same mouth he can’t help but stare at captures his own and he lets himself sink into the waiting embrace, his mind refusing to work for him. There is just the feeling of Lotor’s lips on his, of Lotor’s teeth sinking into his lower lip and making him moan breathlessly, his own hands grappling with Lotor’s naked body, gliding over sinewy muscle shifting ever so subtly until he finds himself trapped underneath the man’s body, unable to move. Lotor laughs against his lips and it makes Keith shiver with delight.

“My, you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Lotor muses softly, finally letting him breathe again properly. The question makes his face burn bright red because, well, Lotor isn’t entirely wrong but he can’t bring himself to say it when he hasn’t … when he’s never …

Lotor frowns and moves his head to look at Keith, his eyes taking in everything, making him blush even harder.

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and Keith can’t help but squirm underneath him, delicious friction building up between them. It makes him moan and Lotor laughs, the sound the only thing tethering him to this reality.

And then he stops touching Keith.

His hands vanish from his face like wisps of fog, his legs let him go and Keith _whines,_ searching for something, anything he has been left with until a soft, tantalizing whisper reaches his ears.

“ _Say it, Keith. Are you enjoying yourself?”  
_ Keith moans, his skin far too hot for him to bear without the cool touch Lotor has promised him, and nods, strands of hair falling into his eyes. Ghostlike laughter strokes his face with tendrils of smokes and promises.

“ _Say it, Keith”,_ the voice demands once more and he feels his lips part, hears himself stutter “yes, yes, Lotor _please,_ I am, please-” until he is cut off by lips claiming his own once more, his body pinned down more firmly than before.

Lotor’s mouth wanders from his own down to his neck, biting down on his fluttering pulse until Keith forgets to breathe, his body shaking with a desire burning through his veins. Lotor laughs, his tongue moving along to soothe the sweet ache his teeth are leaving on Keith’s skin and Keith can only pray to hold on for a bit longer, to let himself stay alive for this. His fingers card through Lotor’s silvery mane until the man reaches the last of his ribs, teeth seeming to graze over bone in their intensity. It makes Keith cry out and grip his hair harder than he initially intended, and Lotor  _snarls,_ the sound ripping through Keith’s entire body, leaving him a quivering mess.  He tries to loosen his hands, tries to let go of Lotor’s hair but tugs harder instead, his fingers almost disappearing completely into the silvery  strands, as if they had a life of their own. They  _have,_ he finds out seconds later, as one of them slides past his cheek, leaving a burning touch in its wake and making him moan and arch his back, only for Lotor to nuzzle him back with his mouth, tongue flicking over his belly button and down, down until Keith can’t help but cry out, his eyes screwed shut, stars flitting across his vision. Lotor plays him like a priced instrument, wringing sound after sound from his lips until he seems satisfied for the moment, his body lifting itself from Keith’s who mewls hoarsely, limbs trembling like young leaves. Lotor laughs teasingly, one large hand cupping Keith’s head, the other stroking soft lines along his body.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a lot”, he muses idly, fingers stopping just short of the one place Keith practically begs him to go, drawing slow circles around his navel until they finally dip deeper, grazing his inner thighs and making him buck upwards, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Is that what you want?”, Lotor whispers, his breath cooling Keith’s cheek for a second and he nods, moaning and trying to chase those nimble fingers, to guide them towards his erection. Lotor, however, stops his movements, his face swimming into focus ever so slowly.

“I can’t know what you want unless you tell me”, he admonishes Keith, a lazy smile showing his sharp fangs – the ones that have left him with marks for the next day, he is sure. He doesn’t know how he does it but his mouth opens, spitting words at Lotor he can’t understand himself, only his pleas of _please, Lotor, please, I’m begging you, please-_ until the other man finally obliges him, one of his fingers slipping inside of him. A strangled moan wrings itself from Keith’s lips and he tries to buck his hips, only to find Lotor holding him down as he teasingly lets his slender digit press deeper, moving ever so slowly. 

“Lotor-!”  
“Now, now, Keith”, he laughs, his voice darkening with every moan spilling from Keith’s lips. “Don’t be impatient.”  
He adds a second finger and Keith almost comes on the spot, his vision swimming with black dots, especially when Lotor starts scissoring him open ever so carefully, adding a third finger after a short while. He crooks them just right and hits a spot that makes Keith scream, his body lifting itself off the bed. Lotor growls and it makes him lose his mind, his vision blacking out around the edges just as Lotor pulls back, his own pants mingling with Keith’s just next to his ear.

“Are you still enjoying this?”, he growls, and Keith feels his mouth open, babbling words he can’t comprehend until Lotor’s lips claim his, hot and wet, shutting him up the only way he knows how. Fangs pierce his lower lip and the pain feels sweet, far too sweet to be real and then Lotor eases himself into him and Keith forgets what breathing feels like, his vision shattering like glass. His silvery fox takes his sweet time at first, until he is finally bottoming out and Keith sobs wordlessly into their sloppy kiss, eyes squeezed shut as his body dissolves into a galaxy of stars. Lotor hits that one spot just _right_ and it makes him beg for something, anything, Lotor’s hair framing his head and soothing the tears from his eyes until white-hot release barrels through him and lets his lower half become entirely boneless. Lotor pounds him through his orgasm, growling his name softly into his ear when he finally comes as well, letting his body slump down briefly next to Keith, before moving to pull him into his arms. Keith moans wordlessly and lets himself get scooted up and fit snugly into a tender embrace, as the silvery fox peppers his head with kisses, muttering soft words of praise that let Keith’s body melt into his until he can’t tell where his ends and the other man’s begins. 


End file.
